


keep in on the hush

by zarahjoyce



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, arya and bran being little shits, call your crush challenge, teenagers amirite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarahjoyce/pseuds/zarahjoyce
Summary: "E-hem." Her younger sister clears her throat. "I believe you have a call to make?""It's not even a mystery at this pointwhoshe's gonna call." Bran pauses, contemplating. "Or is thatwhomshe's gonna call? Either way, we know she likes--""I don't care!" snaps Arya, before turning to her sister again. "A dare's a dare, Sans - and you're gonna call up your crush because you lost the game. Besides," Here she looks too triumphant for her own good, "I'dlooooveto confirm my suspicions about who it is."--God.Had she been so transparent about it? Sansa grabs her phone and glares at her sister. "You're so annoying, you know that?"Arya grins. "And you'resucha sore loser. Now go make that phone call."
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 265
Collections: Jonsa 100 Drabble Challenge





	keep in on the hush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sanzuh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanzuh/gifts).



> Written for the Jonsa 100 Drabble challenge with the prompt _Milk._
> 
> Next up is Jen with the prompt **Mask!**

"Look," Sansa says for the umpteenth time, "I'm not doing this dare. It's crazy and it's _stupid."_  
  
Arya rolls her eyes. "Except _you're_ the one who thought of it and insisted we do this shit for fun." She shakes her sister's phone for emphasis. "Gotta walk the talk, sis."  
  
Sansa glares at her phone as if its very existence is personally offending her. "I didn't know I was going to lose, okay?" she explains - which, of course, sounds very lame to her own ears. "I wanted you to stop moping around and actually call that Gendry guy--"   
  
"Nope." Arya sticks her nose up in the air and sniffs. _"No idea_ what you're going on about--"  
  
Bran snorts from his position near the couch before reaching for his glass of milk and sipping from it.   
  
"You got something to say, nerdface?"  
  
He rolls his eyes at her. "Nerdface. Really? What are you, twelve?"  
  
"I'll show you _twelve_ , you--"  
  
"Guys, _enough_ ," Sansa firmly says, pushing Arya away when the latter makes a move to lunge at their brother. "Just chill, all right? I don't want Robb to come back from his errand and find out that you've murdered each other while I'm around."  
  
"Theoretically, won't he suspect _you_ of killing us in the first place?" Bran raises a brow at her. "Being the only survivor and all."  
  
She crosses her arms and glares. " _That's_ the thanks I get for not letting Arya get you?"  
  
He shrugs.   
  
"Ignore him," Arya says, rolling her eyes again. "Also, _you're_ avoiding the dare." She shakes the phone as if to prove her point. "Do it, jeez. Not like it's _hard."_  
  
Sansa grimaces. It's really not her fault for drawing out the shortest stick! She could've sworn she had her eye on the longer one and--  
  
"E- _hem_." Her younger sister clears her throat. "I believe you have a call to make?"  
  
"It's not even a mystery at this point _who_ she's gonna call." Bran pauses, contemplating. "Or is that _whom_ she's gonna call? Either way, we know she likes--"  
  
"I don't care!" snaps Arya, before turning to her sister again. "A dare's a dare, Sans - and you're gonna call up your crush because you lost the game. Besides," Here she looks too triumphant for her own good, "I'd _loooove_ to confirm my suspicions about who it is _."_  
  
 _God._ Had she been so transparent about it? Sansa grabs her phone and glares at her sister. "You're so annoying, you know that?"  
  
Arya grins. "And you're _such_ a sore loser. Now go make that phone call."  
  
Sansa stares at her phone, her hand shaking. What if she calls someone else? Like Theon or Harry or--  
  
"Remember," Arya says, watching her every move like a hawk, "it _has_ to be the boy you really like. Otherwise you're just being a _liar_ on top of being a sore loser."  
  
"How would you even know if I call up the wrong boy?" argues Sansa.  
  
"I won't," Arya replies, shrugging. "But you would. And, knowing you, _you'll_ remember the day you lied to your beloved and benevolent younger sister - and will always feel guilty about it."  
  
"Also," adds Bran, "you suck at lying, Sansa. One look at you and we'll know the truth."  
  
"I hate you," says Sansa, with true and deep conviction. She glances at her sister. _"Both_ of you."

"We know." Arya exchanges grins with Bran. "Now go call up your crush."  
  
She takes a deep breath. It won't be _so_ bad, she tries to tell herself. It's not like the dare includes telling him she likes him. So Sansa will just dial his number, wait for him to answer, then hang up on him _before_ Arya or Bran gets to say anything incriminating--  
  
"Fine. _Fine_." Sansa slowly scrolls down her contacts list, spots the name towards the end, and--  
  
\--dials. 

She's too focused on making the call - and dreading hearing the ringing sounds at the other end of the line - that she doesn't even _hear_ the front doors opening.  
  
Or _someone_ coming in.   
  
Or that _that_ person is currently taking his phone out and--  
  
"Sans?" Jon says soon as he comes into the living room. "Why are you calling me?" He immediately looks concerned. "Do you need anything?"  
  
Oh shit.  
  
Oh _fuck--!_  
  
Sansa drops her phone in shock.  
  
And Arya and Bran cackle into _forever._


End file.
